


Chickens and Eggs

by MissSlothy



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Love, M/M, One Big Happy Family, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 11:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSlothy/pseuds/MissSlothy
Summary: Steve has a love/hate relationship with Danny's couch.Written for the ‘Jot it Down July’ challenge on Tumblr.Friday is Fluffday :)





	Chickens and Eggs

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been written very quickly with no beta. Apologies in advance for errors.
> 
> Thanks to Tari-Aldarion and Nihilvanum for posting this challenge on Tumblr.

“You okay there, babe?”

Steve deliberately ignores Danny as he parks the Camaro outside the Palace and slides out of the driver’s seat. Biting back a wince, he straightens up. It was more like a semi-controlled tumble than a slide, he admits to himself.

Danny walks round the car to join him. Rocking back on his heels, he studies Steve from head to toe. “You sure about that? You’re limping like my great-aunt Daisy before she had her double hip replacement.”

Steve turns – carefully – and heads for the office. He loves Danny with all his heart. But sometimes he’s annoying as hell. “You don’t have a great-aunt Daisy.”

Danny falls in just behind him, easily keeping pace. “Yes I do.”

Part of Steve tells him to let this go. The other part – the part that gets off on arguing with Danny – is already flipping through the information he has on Danny’s family. ‘War and Peace’ is shorter and they’re due in the office in five minutes. Rolling his eyes, he gives in. “How come I’ve never met her then?” 

“She’s dead.”

“Danny—”

“She’s 90 years old. She has her second hip transplant, it transformed her life, she was like a new woman. Dancing, swimming, abseiling, skydiving, spelunking. You would have liked her. She even joined one of those dating sites, you know, _'Silver Surfers'_ —”

“ _Danny—_ "

“Anyhow,” Danny continues, his waving hands not missing a beat, “one night, she goes out to the local store to get milk and she keels over in the bakery aisle—”

“What?”

“Heart attack.” Danny taps his chest to illustrate. “Gone. Just like that.”

Steve stops walking, despite his better judgement. His brain’s too confused to figure out how to place one foot in front of the other. Danny stops beside him. “Remind me again, why are we having this conversation?”

“You’re limping.”

“What’s that got to do with your great-aunt Daisy—”

“I just explained, before she had the second—”

“Stop. _Please._ ” They’ve made it to the main hall of the Palace. Steve stops, glances up at the long, curving stairway. Back in the day – back in the SEAL Teams – this niggling type of pain wouldn’t have registered on his radar. It wouldn’t have bothered Danny in the past either. Times have changed – they don’t mock each other’s boo boos any more. “It’s just backache, okay?”

Danny expression turns from worried to suspicious. “You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure.” Steve bites his lip. His voice has carried, people are looking at them. Nodding reassuringly at the security staff, he starts up the staircase. “If I thought it was anything else I’d get it checked out, okay?”

Danny doesn’t answer. The soles of his loafers tap on the stairs as he follows behind. They’re almost to the office before he speaks again.

“It’s my couch, isn’t it? You’ve got backache from sleeping on my couch.”

Steve straightens his back, tells himself to walk properly. “I strained it at the gym yesterday. I’ll get a swim later, loosen it up and—”

Danny tugs at his elbow. Another tug and they’re facing each other. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Steve sighs inwardly. He and Danny have been in a relationship for nearly three months. They’re taking their time, keeping it low-key. They want to enjoy it before facing the pressure of telling anyone else. But not telling anyone else means not telling Grace and Charlie. So that means when they’re at Danny’s he sleeps on the couch. That’s not unusual – he’s slept on Danny’s couches plenty over the years – but now he’s doing it several times a week. His back isn’t happy.

Danny looks over shoulder, checks they can’t be overheard. “Maybe you should go back to your place when Grace and Charlie are over,” he says, his unhappy expression confirming how much he hates his own idea. “It’s only a couple of nights and—”

Steve squeezes his arm to stop him. “It’s okay, Danny. It’s not forever.” 

Danny eyes him doubtfully. Steve waits, willing him to understand. Sure, folding himself up on Danny’s tiny couch like a piece of human origami isn’t fun. But he’s slept in much worse places. And waking up in the morning to find Charlie curled up beside him watching cartoons is something he wouldn’t swap for all the gold in the world.

Danny huffs. His shoulders drop. He nods, still looking unhappy.

Steve squeezes his arm again, then they’re moving again. Focusing on his gait, he gets rid of the limp. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it because he’d known Danny would feel guilty. Now he’s managed to make Danny feel guilty anyway. Berating himself for being an idiot, he pushes open the door to the office. 

Lou’s already there, tapping at the computer, bringing up pictures on the big screen. His eyebrows rise when he sees them. His lips flick up at the ends. Steve ignores him – he’s pretty sure Lou’s figured out their new relationship but is trying to be subtle in his unique non-subtle way. 

Stopping at the console, Steve hitches up his belt. Eyes narrowing as he studies the big screen, he crosses his arms. “What we got, Lou?”

H50H50H50

What they’ve got is a serial killer. It never ceases to amaze Steve how many homicidal weirdos there are on the islands. Some days it depresses him. This time he’s quietly grateful because it means discussions about sleeping arrangements are forgotten.

By Friday night they’ve caught their bad guy. They’ve all put in long hours, they’re tired. So when he realises it’s Danny’s weekend again with Grace and Charlie he’s just grateful for any flat surface to sleep on, even if it’s a couple of feet shorter than him.

During the night he questions his decision. Every joint is aching like hell. But at 6am Charlie’s waking him up with popcorn, demanding they watch Spiderman. He passes on the popcorn – it’s soggy, he’s not sure where it’s been – but he hoists Charlie up beside him and settles in to watch the web-slinger.

It’s a couple more hours before Danny and Grace surface. Neither of them are early risers. Wearing identical bird’s nest hairdos they shuffle past him into the kitchen. The sounds of doors opening and closing float out of the kitchen, along with the smell of freshly-brewed coffee.

Steve gives them a bit longer to wake up. Eventually the coffee scent becomes too strong to ignore. He tickles Charlie to get him moving – he’s as ticklish as his Dad – before slowly levering himself off the couch.

His spine feels like it’s been compacted a few inches. Stretching, he bites back a groan. Straightening slowly, he plods after Charlie into the kitchen.

Grace is already at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of her. All her attention though is on her phone: she smiles up at him briefly before she starts swiping again.

Danny’s standing by the stove, with his back to him. He’s breaking eggs into a bowl. He’s wearing a baggy jumper and a pair of worn, frayed shorts. There’s nothing revealing about them but Steve’s libido stirs. He knows exactly what those clothes are hiding. His fingers twitch with the need to touch.

“Smells good,” he says, stepping up behind Danny and taking a deep breath. “What you cooking?”

Danny tips the bowl of eggs so he can see it. His lips turns up into a soft, fond smile. He’s obviously tried to smooth his hair down but his hair won. Unkempt he looks even more sexy than usual. The twinkle in his eye acts like a siren-song; Steve inches closer, his eyes rivetted to Danny’s lips.

“Chickens.”

Like two guilty teenagers they flinch away from each other. Steve’s not sure if he imagines it but it sounds like Grace snorts. Looking down he realises Charlie is standing beside them, watching: he’s waiting for an answer. 

Oh. _Chickens._

A few weeks back, at school, Charlie had learnt about where food comes from. Plants growing in the ground he’d understood just fine. Chickens and eggs, not so much. The hour Danny had spent trying to explain it to Charlie had been one of the funniest of Steve’s life. In the end - to save time and their sanity – they’d agreed that chickens and eggs were the same thing. They’d hoped Charlie’s teacher would explain it later. Apparently it’s not back on the curriculum yet.

“Yeah, buddy,” Danny smiles, ruffling Charlie’s hair. “Chickens.”

There’s another snort behind them. In unison they turn. Grace stares back at them, her hand over her mouth. “Cereal got stuck,” she mumbles before turning back to her phone.

Once breakfast is finished, Charlie and Grace disappear to their rooms. Danny attacks the washing up. Steve sidles up beside him, close enough so they’re joined at the hip.

“Maybe you should stay over your place tonight,” Danny whispers as Steve starts drying up. “Don’t argue,” he insists as Steve freezes. “I can see you’re hurting, babe.”

Steve takes a breath, letting it out slowly. There’s so much he wants to say but they’re not alone. He wants to tell Danny how quiet his own house is. He loves his home, having his own space, his own bed. But he wants this too; the noise, the bickering, the family _life._

Danny grabs the towel off him. Drying his hands he pecks a kiss on Steve’s mouth. “Grace, Charlie,” he yells before Steve can say anything. “Get dressed. We’re going shopping.” He plants a hand on Steve’s chest, pushes. “That includes you, Steven. Go, go, _go_.”

H50H50H50

Grace and Charlie groan with disappointment as they pull up outside the shopping mall. Steve inwardly echoes their groans. They’re not at the normal mall, with the toy store and nail salon. They’re parked outside ‘Sofas R Us’.

“Beach and shave ice once we’re done,” Danny promises, herding them out of the car. 

Grace and Charlie do as they’re told, their faces glum. Steve follows behind, feeling guilty as hell. Danny’s taken point, his hips swaying as he marches towards the store. He’s swapped his dress shirt and pants for a tee-shirt and jeans but they still look sprayed on. The sight distracts Steve, makes his mouth go dry. Then they’re in the store and his dismay crowds back in.

There are couches as far as they can see. 

_“Danny—”_

Danny halts in front of them. Not looking back he raises a fist. It’s like they’re breaching a building, Steve thinks vaguely, as Danny glances around then waves them forward. As a unit they move forward but it’s a close run thing. Charlie’s spotted a Spiderman beanbag: Steve gently steers him back on track. Grace has got her head down, her attention on her phone, but like every teenager she’s managing to avoid all obstacles in her path without looking up.

Danny brings them to a halt in front of the biggest L-shape soft Steve has ever seen. The cushions are plumped up, they look so inviting. It’s almost twice as long Danny’s current couch. Getting it in his house is going to be a squeeze.

“It’ll fit,” Danny says, hands on hips as he studies it.

Steve blinks. Everything has suddenly become crystal clear. “You’ve been here before.”

Danny looks guilty – he’s been caught out – then his expression morphs into determination. “Sit here,” he tells Charlie, picking him up and plonking him onto the couch. “Grace, here,” he instructs, gently nudging his eldest into compliance. As Grace sits with a huff Steve finds himself being pushed towards the couch too.

Danny stands back, looking pleased with himself. “There you go. Movie nights are gonna be great.”

Steve looks along the couch. They’re all perched. He’s never seen a more uncomfortable looking bunch of people.

Before he can say anything Grace is nudging him along the couch. She’s surprisingly strong and accurate with her bony elbow. When he gets to the middle, where the couches meet at a 90 degree angle, she taps him on the knee.

“Lie down.”

Her insistent tone is familiar: he glares at Danny. Danny shrugs back.

“You heard her, babe. Lie down.”

Steve studies his dusty trainers, balefully. If he’d known they’d be road-testing couches he’d have worn socks. Toeing his trainers off, he swings his legs round and stretches out. The cushions are perfect, not too hard or soft. Closing his eyes, he wiggles his toes and sighs happily.

“You’re such a goof.”

Steve opens his eyes. Danny’s watching him, his eyes full of love, his expression fond. Steve grins back at him. He can imagine stretching out on this couch in the evenings, Danny beside him. There’s enough space on the other end for Grace and Charlie too. And once the kids have gone to bed for the night they’ll be enough space for…

A cough interrupts his fantasies. 

Grace raises her eyebrows at them when they look over at her. “What?” she says, her face a picture of innocence, “I’ve got allergies. It’s…dusty in here.”

Steve files away that information. He’ll ask Danny about it later. He didn’t know Grace had allergies. It’s good to be prepared.

H50H50H50

Danny decides to buy the couch. Steve nearly passes out when he sees how much it costs. They argue in the shop but Danny is adamant. Danny’s obvious happiness at having solved his back pain issue is what makes Steve back off – that and the fact he knows people who can deposit cash into bank accounts without the account owner knowing. 

Danny’s going to have a shock when he checks his account in a few days. 

H50H50H50

The couch fits in Danny’s living room – just.

The day it arrives is Grace and Charlie’s weekend with Danny. Danny decides they’re going to have a movie night. Charlie loves superheroes, Grace loves Chris Hemsworth and Steve doesn’t care what they watch because just sitting together on the new couch is his idea of heaven.

They watch a Thor movie.

It’s surprisingly good, Steve thinks to himself. It’s got action and explosions in all the right places. And there’s no denying Thor is good on the eyes: he’s got a thing for fit-looking blonde-haired blokes. But Charlie still falls asleep half-way through it. Even Chris Hemsworth isn’t enough to keep Grace off her phone all night. 

Danny’s in Charlie’s bedroom reading him a story when the final credits roll on the film. Steve retrieves the remote for the TV and turns the sound down. As silence falls he stretches out on couch, tucking his arm behind his head. Sleep tugs at the edge of his senses. Wiggling further into the couch he lets his eyes drift half-closed.

It’s not long before Danny’s creeping back into the living room. The glow from the TV screen illuminates his face. He looks relaxed, dressed in a ratty tee-shirt and sleep shorts. His hair has flopped to one side, clearly off-duty. He hesitates on the threshold. His lips flick up in smile. Then it dies as he glances back over his shoulder at the closed door to Charlie’s bedroom. Chewing at his bottom lip, he takes his seat at the opposite end of the couch.

In silence they watch the muted TV screen.

Steve quashes his disappointment. He doesn’t have to look at Danny’s face to know he’s doing the same. If Grace and Charlie weren’t here they’d be in the bedroom now. They’d be exploring each other’s bodies, questing with their hands and mouths. He’d make Danny curse with frustration as he’d bring him to the edge of his climax and hold him there. Danny would make him beg for release, using his tongue and teeth to make his body quiver with need. Sweaty and sated, they’d end the night sprawled across the bed giggling like teenagers, still awed by this thing between them.

Without conscious thought he leans towards Danny. He’s powerless to stop himself, he needs Danny in his arms. Apparently Danny’s feeling the same. Suddenly he’s changing seats, stretching out, slotting his body next to Steve’s. The new couch really is a good investment: it’s big enough to fit both of them.

They kiss. It’s chaste. It’s quiet. They haven’t forgotten about Grace and Charlie. It’s not enough. Tonight, it _has_ to be enough.

“I need a glass of water.”

They spring apart like they’ve been tasered. Grace is walking through the living room. She’s wearing bright pink headphones. Her face is illuminated by the glow from her phone screen.

As she disappears into the kitchen Steve risks a glance over at Danny. Danny stares back at him, looking as shocked as he feels.

Before he can say anything Grace reappears again. She’s got a glass of water in one hand, her cell phone in the other. Still frozen to the spot, they track her progress back to her bedroom.

She stops, turns back to them. Dramatically she rolls her eyes.

“Go to bed,” she tells them. “I’m happy for you, okay? And Charlie…” She pauses, looks back at the bedroom doors. “He loves you. Both of you,” she adds softly, looking straight at Steve.

Steve swallows at the knot of emotion that’s threatening to choke him. “Grace-face—”

Walking over, she leans down to kiss him on the cheek. “Just promise me you’ll still watch cartoons with him in the morning.”

Extracting himself from Danny arms, he sits up to pull her in for a hug. “I promise.”

She returns the hug then moves on to Danny. Their hug lasts a little longer. Then she’s moving again, heading for her room. “Yeah Will, I’m still here,” they hear her say as she closes her bedroom door behind her, “Yeah, they were making out on the couch…”

“ _Grace—_ ”

Steve laughs at Danny’s anguished shout, he can’t help himself. He’s suspected for a while that Lou knows. Grace takes after her old man – she’s clever – so they should have guessed she knew too. They’re still going to have to be careful if they don’t want more chicken and egg conversations with Charlie. Officially christening the new couch is gonna have to wait for another time. But it’s a relief not to hide in their own home anymore. Grabbing Danny by the front of his tee-shirt he drags him in for a deep, lingering kiss.

“Bed,” Danny whispers, one hand sliding down to rest possessively on Steve’s hip. “You’ve got an early start in the morning. There’s a double bill of Spiderman at 6am.”

_The end_


End file.
